


Dirty Scavengers

by kkylux



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blood, Blowjobs, Cuddling, Eventual Smut, Fluff and Smut, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Gore, Kissing, M/M, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Reader-Insert, Violence, m/m porn, puns
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-22
Updated: 2016-01-25
Packaged: 2018-05-15 14:36:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5789065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kkylux/pseuds/kkylux
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You and your BB unit travel the galaxy looking for stuff to steal to make a living. But after you fuck up, you are left with no money and no where to go. All you have is a stolen X-wing, the shirt on your back, and the hots for Kylo Ren. Will you stay with the First Order, or do what you normally do; steal shit then run? <br/>---------<br/>The reader is gender neutral (they/them pronouns), but for the eventual smut, they will have a dick.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Great Escape number 93

**Author's Note:**

> Like the summary said, the reader is gender neutral, but will have a dick for the smut parts. I'm estimating the sex will come in like chapter 4 or something idk. Enjoy

The sound of lasers whizzing by your head makes your heart skip a beat. Your legs are sore, but you know that if you stop running you’ll be killed. Or imprisoned. Honestly, you don’t know what will happen, but you don’t want to find out.

“Can’t you roll any faster!” you shout at the droid struggling to keep up with you.

It’s a BB unit, green and white, assigned to some old dead dude by the Republic, who you are now on the run from.

_I can only go so fast, asshole._ It whirs and beeps in respond. _I told you this was a bad idea. I told you this would happen. But did you listen to me? No!_

“Ugh! Shut up.”

You dodge another shot and hear a guard yell at you to stop. Having worked here for a solid two and a half months as a janitor, you knew your way around the base fairly well.

Your original goal wasn’t to stay here that long. You’ve NEVER stayed anywhere for more than three, maybe four days. You were always on the move, traveling from planet to planet, causing trouble. But this time was different. This time, if everything went your way, you would be set for life. No more worrying about the next time you would eat. No more worrying about what would happen if your ship broke down and you couldn’t afford repairs. And no more doing stupid stuff like this. You would have more money than you could ever imagine. It would be glorious.

_You’re crazy, you know that? Stealing top secret information and then trying to sell it is literally the worst idea I have ever heard._

“Shush I’m trying to think.”

You stop momentarily, trying to remember which way to go. You decided that they left path looks promising, and you run as fast as you can. You bust through a door that leads outside, and you see TONS of ships, none of which look like your own.

There’s a searing pain in your left arm, and you realize you’ve been hit.

“Ack, fuck!” You yell out in pain, grabbing at the wound, a small amount of blood dribbling down your hands.

You realize by the amount of footsteps and yelling behind you that you probably won’t have time to locate your ship.

_Wow you’ve been hit! Didn’t see that one coming._

“Oh I’m fine, thanks for asking. Now help me find the ship, or any ship at this point.” You spit back. This droid is really getting on your nerves today.

_Here, this way. Let just take this X-wing. We’ll come back for our ship later I guess._

You follow it closely, and climb aboard the ship. It’s in pretty good shape, and you can tell it belongs to someone by the, uh, personal touches. There’s a lot of nick-nacks laying around, and a picture of someone taped to the wall inside the ship. You tear it down.

Looking outside the windshield, you see guards. A lot of them. A lot more than you thought, each with a blaster in hand.

“Fuck” you mutter under your breath, “I hope this thing is easy to fly.”

You start up the ship, just as the guards start firing at you. It roars to life, a hopeful sound, and you begin pressing buttons.

_You might want to hurry it up. We have company, and lots of it._

“Really? I had no idea. Just make sure they don’t get on the ship. I kind of only have one arm here.”

_Aye aye, captain._

The ship begins to rise off the ground, a little wobbly at first, but you are able to stabilize it. You were never great at flying, but you weren’t terrible either. You can get from point A to point B in one piece, and that was good enough for you.

Suddenly, you feel the ship being pulled back down. Looking out the window, you see two droids—an R2 unit and another BB unit—trying to ground the it.

“Ahhh dammit! Can’t someone try to steal top secret government information in peace?”

You give the ship more gas, and you feel yourself slowly lifting again. Blasters hit it from all angles, making it rock and bounce.

_You can start firing back any time now!_

Oh yeah.

You start pulling the trigger, missing the first few times, but when you finally land a blow it’s enough to free you from the droids’ tethers and take out a few guards.

You book it out of there as fast as possible, and you keep going even when you are certain no one’s following you. Even though there should be. Why isn’t there anyone following you?

You stop worrying about that after about 20 minutes of flying, and take a look at your wound. It seems to have been mostly cauterized, but you don’t want to risk infection so you decided to clean it up and wrap it anyway.

_Are you planning on answering me?_

“Oh sorry I didn’t hear you.” You must have been too caught up in your thoughts and examining your injury to hear what it said.

_I said how is your arm? There should be first aid around here somewhere._

“It hurts, but I’ll live. It just hardly grazed me.”

You locate the first aid kit and wrap your arm up, after pulling pieces of burnt cloth from your shirt out of it. You wince when you try to move it, so it might take some time to heal.

_So who are you planning on selling the files that you nearly got yourself killed over to? Are you going with the highest bidder, or are you going to just hand it  to the First Order solely to fuck the Republic over?_

“Probably to the highest bidder, though the ladder sounds tempting. Those fuckers ruined my favorite shirt.”

_That’s your only shirt. I don’t think you can pick a favorite when there’s only one choice._

“Regardless! This was a nice shirt. And don’t forget they still have our ship too. Never seeing that thing again though. Anyway, open up a port. I’m going to let you hold onto the files because I trust you more than myself.”

_Aw I’m touched._

You reach down to grab the little stick out of your pocket, but your hand meets with nothing but lint. Okay. Don’t panic. Try the other pocket? Okay, okay it’s not there either. _Fuck fuck fuck FUCK **FUCK.**_

Then it dawns on you. You had been clutching the files in your hand, and when you got hit, you must have involuntarily released your grip enough for it to fall out. THAT’S why you weren’t being followed!

BB notices your panic immediately.

_Don’t tell me you lost it. I’m not joking; literally do not tell me if you lost it. I don’t think I will be able to withstand hearing you say that_.

“Then I guess I’m staying silent.” You feel numb. Now you have no job and you can never go back without being arrested. You cannot believe yourself. You are so angry you could just—no. You’re not going to lose your cool. It’s okay, you fucked up but everything will be okay. Everything is A-okay.

The both of you remain quiet for about 30 seconds.

“HOLY SHIT I AM A FUCKING IDIOT. STUPID STUPID STUPID. I CANNOT BELIEVE I DROPPED IT. I CAN’T. THIS IS JUST A BAD FUCKING DREAM. OUT OF ALL THE TIMES TO FUCK UP, I CHOOSE NOW. **FUCK.** ” You scream at yourself until your voice is hoarse, and you feel tears running down your face out of frustration.

You are a complete mess. Luckily no one is around to see you besides BB. But you don’t care if it sees you like this. As much as it gets on your nerves, it’s the only family you have.

You ran away from home when you were about 16. It’s been three years since you’ve seen or heard from your mother or father, not that you really care. I mean, you ran away for a reason. And that was to get away from them. You came across BB a little over a month after you ran away, and you discovered that its owner had died 3 months prior, and you decided that you need a friend, so you convinced it to come with you and explore the galaxy. And by explore, you meant do stupid shit.

_Hey, hey, don’t cry. Yeah, you royally fucked up. Am I pissed? That doesn’t even begin to describe it. But we can bounce back! I’m sure there’s got to be a planet that we haven’t been chased off yet. We’ll go there, settle in, and sort our shit out. Maybe change our look and names and lay low for a while. Then go back at it again._

BB was always a lot better at handling these situations than you. 9 times out of 10, you always ended up either screaming at yourself or it. You just needed some way to get your frustration out. You only ever did this when it was just the two of you though. Around other people, you could be described as calm, funny and caring, but in reality, you were always stressed. Always on edge. Sometimes you’d stay up into the late hours trying to figure out how you would make money, and what your next heist would be, and you’d always be found red-eyed and crabby the next morning.

You took a deep breath and let it out. “You’re right. You’re right. I just need to think for a minute. Process everything, I guess.”

You look around the ship, just to get a sense of where you are. You pick up a little stuffed Wookie and examine it, finding it oddly endearing. You’re starting to notice how cluttered it is in here, and you desperately want to get out. About a half hour passes before either of you speak.

“So… How’s it going up there?” BB was never one for small-talk, but you found it quite enjoyable. Plus this not talking thing was making your skin crawl.

_Eh, it’s okay. I’ve been better places. How about you?_

“Peachy.”

Silence again. You start twirling your hair, a nervous habit, and begin thinking of places you could go next. Jakku? No, you hate sand. Axxila? You pissed off one too many shop keepers. Duro? Maybe. Duros kind of give you the creeps though.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the feeling of your ship suddenly stopping.

“Uh, BB? Is this thing working?”

_Oh shit. That is a big fucking ship._ You hear him beep back.

You look out the window and crane your neck upwards to try and look above you.

Holy shit.

That is a very large, very menacing looking ship.

And you were slowly being pulled towards it.


	2. All aboard the Finalizer

Everything blurred together. As your ship was pulled in, you could do nothing but wait. Wait for your inevitable death. You recognized the ship as the Finalizer, a Resurgent-class Star Destroyer used by the First Order, and you knew they were nothing to screw around with.

You don’t really remember much aside from being grabbed by 3 Stormtroopers and attempting to run, which was met with the butt end of a blaster to your face, knocking you out cold.

When you woke up, you immediately noticed the throbbing in your head, probably where they hit you. You also noticed the cold metal chair that you were strapped to. Great. You are most likely in some sort of interrogation or torture chamber.

“ _Shit.”_ You mutter. First you lose your top secret information from the Republic, and now this? Today really wasn’t your day.

You test the restraints by pulling on them to see if you have any chance of escape, and just as you guessed, they are unmoving. You think this is a bit of an over kill considering you are not only injured, but you have no weapons on you either. But whatever works for them, you suppose. Maybe once they realize you aren’t a threat and you have no value to them, they will let you go, right? Doubtful. The First Order wasn’t known for being merciful.

You stare up at the ceiling for about 5 minutes before you realize how blindingly bright the lights are. Judging by how much your head hurts, and how you are having some trouble focusing on your thoughts, you are nearly positive that you have a concussion.

Suddenly, you hear a door slide open with a _woosh._ A Stormtrooper walks in with a plate containing water and bread, blaster at their side.

“I’ve been instructed to bring you food. Open.” The Stormtrooper has a young sounding voice, and they can’t be much older than you. Maybe early 20’s?

You think about their command for a moment. Would you rather allow them to feed you and silence the screaming hunger pains in your body, or keep your pride? Being fed while you’re strapped down to a metal table-chair thing seems a little dehumanizing.

“Can’t you just unstrap me and let me feed myself? I mean quite frankly, I really don’t want you feeding me and I doubt you want to either.” You stare at him hard, hoping he will just unstrap at least one of your arms. Maybe if you flex while he puts it back on, you’ll have enough room to free yourself later and you won’t have to eat out of someone hand.

“You either eat or I leave. Those are my orders.”

Well so much for that.

“Fine.” You open your mouth and let the Stormtrooper pour the cup of water in. You realize how thirsty you are and you power chug all of it, choking on the last few sips because of the angle you are at and how aggressively you were drinking it.

When you finish your coughing fit, you begin eating the bread. It’s cold and stale, and taste vaguely like dirt, but you don’t really care at this point. You just need something in your stomach.

As you finish up, you realize that you have no clue where your droid is. The Stormtrooper turns to leave, but you stop them.

“Hey wait! Do you know where my droid is? Or how long I will be here?” You can’t imagine they would do anything with BB, considering it has nothing of value. Then again, that may prompt them to just shove it in a trash compactor and launch it into space. You hope it’s not the ladder.

“I am not authorized to answer those.”

You hear the woosh of the door opening and closing, and you realize you are alone again. You have to find BB and get out of here. But how?

Your thoughts are interrupted by the sound of the door opening again, and you watch in fear as a tall, scary looking man dressed in all black walks in. He’s got a mask on, and you are certain that he is someone of great importance here. You hear the slight clacking of his shoes on the ground as he approaches you. Trying to make yourself seem less intimidated by him, you puff out your chest and hold your head high. The last thing you want is for him to sense your fear.

“Who are you?” you ask boldly. You wish you could see his face so that you could gauge his reaction to your words.

Instead of getting a reply, you get a burning hot pain starting at the back of your head, swiftly traveling to the front, towards his slightly outstretched arm.

A metallic sounding voice speaks to you, probably the work of some sort of voice changing mechanism in his helmet.

“Tell me what you know about the Resistance. Your ship was Republic assigned. You must have something to do with the rebels.” The pain gets stronger with his words, and you can’t help yourself from yelling in pain. The Resistance? Yeah, you’ve heard of them, but you are in no way, shape or form affiliated with them. You weren’t one to pick sides in a war that had nothing to do with you.

“I-I don’t know anything! I’m just a scavenger! I stole that ship, it’s not mine!” The burning pain makes it hard to get your words out, but luckily for you, it lets up slightly, then comes to a complete stop. You sigh in relief and continue speaking.

“I use to work at the Republic in sanitation, but I was, uh, removed from the position.” You chuckle to yourself internally. Removed was an understatement.

“Why was this?” His voice sounded more annoyed than curious, and you really didn’t want to piss this guy off, so you decided to be honest.

“I stole some really important information with the hopes of selling it, but I got caught and made a run for it. I accidentally dropped it though, so don’t get your hopes up.” God, you sound like an idiot, and you can tell that he agrees by the tone of his voice.

“You dropped it.” It was more of a confirming statement rather than a question.

“Yes.” The shame in your voice was very apparent by how it cracked slightly, and you looked down at the ground, avoiding his glare, which you could feel despite the fact that he had his face covered. You’ve decided that if you had any questions, you better ask them now. He seemed to be more likely to give answers over the Stormtrooper that had fed you earlier. Then again, he didn’t really seem to be in a good mood. It’s worth a shot though.

“Uh so do you know where my—“ you were cut off by his answer.

“Your droid is fine. We have it in holding right now.” How did he know what you were going to say?

Your thoughts were interrupted by the searing pain again, but it didn’t last long. Soon, everything just went black.

 

Days went by, though you are not sure how many. Maybe two? The man in black didn’t return, thank god. That guy was scary. Various Stormtroopers came in and out, feeding you and unlocking you to bring you to the bathroom, but that’s it. Your plan of flexing when they secured the restraints didn’t work, as they realized what you were doing, and ended up sedating you. Your arm was healing fine, but the pain in your head still lingered, a sign that you should probably see a doctor.

Another day passed, and you woke up to the familiar sound of the door opening. Instead the usual single Stormtrooper coming in to bring you food, you were met with three of them, blasters in hand. You felt your heart drop. They were going to kill you, this is it. You were going to die here, with no way to fight back, strapped to this stupid chair in this stupid room and—Oh. They were unstrapping you and helping you down.

“We have been instructed to relocate you. Follow us.” You felt the familiar feeling of metal on your wrists once again, this time in the form of handcuffs. You followed the two troopers in front of you, and felt a blaster pushed into your back from the one behind.

“Hey can you not do that,” you turn your head slightly to speak to the person behind you with the cold gun against your back, “you are really stressing me out man. That is not proper gun safety, what happens if you trip and fire? I’m dead!” Your snappy comment doesn’t gain you a response. The gun is just pressed harder into your back, signaling you to walk faster.

You try to make a mental note of the way that you are being led, but the throbbing in your head is still there, making it difficult.

When you finally arrive at your destination, you stop and stare at your cell. The first thing you notice is the size. It is small. Very, very small. About 11 feet by 11 feet, with an uncomfortable looking bed in the corner, and a small chair in the other. Both are bolted to the floor.

The gun that has been pressed into your back pushes you forward, into the cell. Two of the Stormtroopers leave, but one lingers. Probably been assigned to guard you. They stand just outside your cell, facing away from you.

You begin pacing around, getting a feel for your new home. It is very dreary in here, but it’s better than where you were before. Tugging on your handcuffs, you realize how uncomfortable they are.

“Hey, can you take these off?” You ask your guard, gesturing towards your wrists with your head. “I doubt I’m going anywhere anytime soon, and my wrists are pretty sore.”

The guard look back at you and chuckles, but doesn’t respond.

“I don’t see what’s so funny.”

Your words aren’t as harsh as you wanted them to be, and you sound quite pathetic. Whiney, like a little kid.

Without looking at you, the Stormtrooper makes a snarky response. “You want me to open up your door too? Not a chance. Suck it up.”

You huff angrily and decide you should get some rest. You haven’t had a good night of sleep since you arrived here, and as thin and bumpy as your new bed looks, it’s better than what you had been sleeping on.

You lay down on it and shut your eyes. Sleep takes you almost instantly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OOO you met kylo sweet.


	3. The gang gets a fucking job

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for any typos or whatever. I do all corrections by myself, and I wrote this chapter while i was really tired. Enjoy tho

Days come and go and honestly, you’ve lost track on how many. Every day is always the same; wake up, eat, try to have a conversation with the Stormtrooper that sits outside of your cell door (he never really answers, but he did tell you that his name is CE-1118 and that he is 32 years old, so you suppose that’s a start), be walked to the bathroom, ask about your droid and when you can see it, pace around the room, eat, talk some more, ask about your droid again, sleep. Things have gotten pretty boring. But on the bright side, they took your handcuffs off!

It’s almost 1:00 in the afternoon; time for your bathroom trip. You’ve thought about pissing yourself to try and make a point of the fact that you should get more than one bathroom break per day, but you don’t want to risk them not caring and having to sit in your own urine for god knows how long. You hear footsteps and get up from the chair you were sitting in, ready for them to put your handcuffs back on for your venture out of the cell. To your surprise, instead of the usual three Stormtroopers ready to escort you, you are met by a man with tidy, red hair.

“It’s refreshing to see an actual human face, and not just someone in a mask, which appears to be a common theme around here.” You tell him before he even gets a chance to speak.

He smiles at you, and crosses his arms behind his back. He looks pretty young to you, and is very well kempt. His clothes are wrinkle free, and his hair is neat and held together with lots of gel. Suddenly, you become conscious of your own appearance; torn shirt stained with blood, greasy hair due to not showering for the duration of your time here and pants that had quite a few large holes that have been poorly sewed shut. Not to mention you probably smell pretty bad.

“My name is General Hux. I am a commander of this ship, along with my colleague Kylo Ren, whom you had met earlier.” You think back to all of the people you have met since being here, and since all of them have been Stormtroopers with the exception of one, you guess that’s him.

“He’s the dude in all black with the scary lookin’ mask?” you ask, even though you think you know the answer.

“Uh, yes that is correct.” General Hux seemed mildly disgusted with your speech mannerisms, but said nothing on it.

“So do I get to see my droid now? Or am I being taken to that torture chamber again?” You decide that if you get strapped to that shitty chair and have to be fed by hand again, you will lose your mind.

“No, to both questions. I am here to make you an offer.” He turns to the Stormtrooper that had been watching you all these days, and gives him a curt nod. The trooper takes out a set of keys, and fumbles through them before finding the one he was looking for, then unlocks your cell. He goes to put on your handcuffs, but General Hux stops him. “Those won’t be necessary. Follow me please.”

You were slightly reluctant at first, but you oblige. Two Stormtroopers follow closely behind, probably there for security reasons. General Hux walks swiftly, and you almost have to jog to keep up.

“So, uh, where are we going?” You glance behind you and nearly trip over yourself. Smooth.

“My office.” He replies, ignoring what you just did, even though you are certain he saw.

The rest of the walk is in silence, which is only about 5 minutes. When you arrive at your destination, General Hux slides a card along a pad, and punches in a few numbers. The Stormtroopers that were following you take their respective sides along the door as you follow him into his office and stand awkwardly in the corner. Once the door shuts, he strides over to a long desk full of neatly organized paperwork and folders, and takes a seat behind it.

“You may sit if you would like.” He says as he gestures towards a red chair, just on the other side of the desk.

You sit down, then begin fumbling around with your hair. General Hux glances down at some papers for what feels like eternity, but in reality was probably less than 30 seconds. You take this time to survey the room. It was much bigger than your cell, and there was a tiny model of the ship on his desk. In addition to this, there was a large map of what seemed to be the whole galaxy fitting perfectly on the wall that was directly behind him. Everything seemed very tidy, which made sense, considering the way he looked.

“So,” his sudden voice made you jump slightly, “I have been informed that you worked for the Republic, is this correct?”

You nod swiftly.

He stares at you a little longer, probably expecting you to actually say something, rather than just nodding your head, but once he realized that that’s all you’re going to do, he looks back down at the paper in his hand. “I have also been informed that you almost made off with some very important documents. Is this correct as well?”

“Yes it is,” you say out loud this time, not wanting to come off as rude or hostile. “But I don’t have it anymore.”

He sighs audibly, looks back up at you, then places the papers back down on his desk. He seems annoyed.

“Well, I have two options for you. The first being a job here. It won’t pay at all, but you will get a nice room with a real bed, shower, kitchenette and access to the pantry and cafeteria; basically everything you need. You just have to help us get that information. You obviously know your way around that place, so you should know where they keep vital documents regarding both themselves and the Resistance. Once we have it, we will find other odd jobs for you to do involving paperwork and data retrieval. Basic stuff, nothing too difficult.” He stares at you, awaiting a response.

You think for a moment. Working for the First Order? You never pictured yourself doing that. Hell, you never pictured yourself having an actual job that you didn’t get solely just to screw people over in the long run. This seemed almost too good to be true. An actual place of your own? Guaranteed food? You’d have to be crazy to turn that down! But on the other hand… Aren’t these guys evil? Yeah, you’ve done your fair share of not so good things, but you’ve never killed anyone before—something the First Order was notorious for. Was this really something you wanted to be associated with?

“Well?” Hux is beginning to look impatient, and you doubt he is going to give you time to think it over.

“What is the second option?”

“Death.” Ah, yes. You should have seen that one coming.

You laugh nervously and stop when you see that he isn’t even smiling.

“Well I guess my choice is obvious. Yeah, sure I accept.” You reach out your hand, and he seems a little hesitant to shake it. After he does, you see him wipe his hand off on his pants out of your peripheral vision. Whatever, asshole.

“Well, welcome aboard. You just need to fill out a few things and you will be all set.” He stands up and starts walking towards the door, and you take this as a cue to do the same.

You follow him all the way back to your cell, and watch as your guard goes to lock you back up again.

“Sorry that you have to sleep in here again tonight, we don’t quite have your room ready. Based off your actions in past employments, you will have an escort with you at all times and you will have a curfew starting at 9:00pm until 5:00am, unless you are given directions otherwise due to work.” He bids you goodnight and turns around and leaves.

“So, now that I work here are you allow to talk to me?” You poke at the Stormtroopers leg through the bars of the cell, and he shakes his leg slightly, a sign for you to stop, then steps about a foot forward to prevent further physical contact.

You await your answer that you know you won’t get, and then decided to sleep, surprisingly excited for your new job.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I think I might push back the smut so that I can squeeze some more plot in there. Expect a lot of kylo in the next chapter, but don't expect smut till like chapter 5 or 6. I'm gonna try to update everything day too. And! thanks for the kudos and comments <3


	4. Well now you fucked up, you have fucked up now

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cannot make good chapter titles to save my life

The next day goes by pretty fast. You wake up to the sound of keys unlocking your cell door, and you are lead to your new room by two Stormtroopers. General Hux is already there waiting for you, papers in hand. He opens the door for you with his card, which you are assuming is a universal key for all doors on this ship.

“Here’s your new room,” he says, allowing you to step inside ahead of him, “You just have to fill out these papers for me with some information about yourself, and then sign this contract.” He leads you over to a small table on the left side of the room, where the kitchenette is. The table seems as if it could sit 3 people, good in the event that you have guests over. Which is unlikely, but it’s still nice to have, just in case.

You sit down and he slides the papers over to you, hands you a pen, then sits down across from you with his elbows on the table and hands clasped, waiting. You pick up one of the papers and read it. It’s just basic information; your first and last name, date of birth, medical history, blood type, family contact info and a few other things. As you fill it out and sign it, Hux notices that you left the family portion blank.

“No family?” He asks, taking the paper from your outstretched hand and looking it over.

“Uh, no,” you respond, avoiding his gaze, “I left home when I was 16. I didn’t really have a good relationship with my parents so I saw no future for me there. It’s been 3 years and I haven’t spoken to them since.” It’s more information than he really needed, but you didn’t care.

General Hux lets out a hum, and puts the paper in a folder that he has been carrying with him. You look down at the next paper in front of you, and it appears to be some sort of contract that states rules and obligations, as well as a line that says they are not liable if you were to die while on the job. You read it over twice and sign a few blank lines, then slides it back to him where it joins the first paper you filled out.

Hux stands up and smooths out his pants. “Well alright then! You are now an official employee. I will have a room key made up for you and have somebody bring it to you, but for now I would advise you to stay in your room, so that you do not lock yourself out.” He begins to walks towards the door, but you stop him.

“Wait, uh, sir? Will I be getting my droid back anytime soon?”

He looks at you for a moment, a little confused, but then remembers. “Ah yes! I will have it sent down along with your room key.” He gives you a slight nod, and walks out the door, leaving you alone.

 

You begin to explore the room. It is a medium sized apartment, with enough room to house two people comfortably. You notice that the décor is pretty dark. Everything is either black or grey, but the red accent makes up for the otherwise lack of color. You head over to the queen sized bed in the far right corner, and see some new clothes are laid out on it. They seem to be some sort of tracksuit and like everything else on this damn ship, they are black. What is it with these guys and the color black?

You decided to take a shower, considering it has been a while and you are definitely starting to smell. When you walk into the bathroom, the first thing you notice is how cramped it is. Either way, it’s still better than any other bathroom you’ve been in. You start the shower and turn it to hot, and begin peeling off your clothes. Your shirt is kind of stuck to your arm with dried blood, so it a little hard to take off without causing yourself pain. Finally, you are able to step into the warm water and oh my god this is the best thing you have ever felt. The water was the perfect temperature, and the pressure was just right.

Standing for a moment, motionless, you allow it to wash away most of the dirt and grime. It turns the water a brown color as it heads down the drain, and you begin lathering up your body with one of the small bottles of body wash that was placed on the counter for you. You scrub off the blood on your arm, and begin washing your hair.

When you finish your shower, you shut off the water and step outside into the cold air, then wrap yourself up in a fluffy towel to dry off. Once you are dry, you begin putting on the clothes you were provided with, and inspect yourself in the mirror. There’s a large bump on your forehead where you were hit the first night here, but it looks mostly healed. Whether or not you had or still have a concussion, you don’t know, but it doesn’t hurt anymore so that must be a good sign.

The suit you are wearing looks quite nice on you, as it hugs your body perfectly, and makes you looks more muscular than you actually are. Or maybe that’s actually how muscular you are. You never really pay attention to those sort of things.

The next thing you do it pick up the toothbrush that was neatly placed in a cup next to the sink and put a small amount of toothpaste on it, then begin brushing. As much as you hate to admit it, you can’t remember the last time you brushed your teeth. You usually don’t have access to these sort of things.

As you finish up with a bit of mouthwash, you hear a knock at the door, and walk over to open it up.

A Stormtrooper is standing there with a card which you assume to be your room key, and he hands it to you.

“Thanks,” you turn it over in your hand and inspect it, then open your mouth to speak again, “And my droi—“ you are cut off by the Stormtrooper stepping aside to allow a droid to roll in.

At first you are excited to see BB again, but once you get a good look at the droid in front of you, you realize that that is not your droid.

Yes, it is a BB unit, but it is blue and white and non-recognizable.

“Uh, this isn’t my droid,” you say to the Stormtrooper as you stare coldly at the robot in front of you.

“Not my problem.” The trooper turns and walks back down the hall, leaving you with somebody else’s droid.

You look back to the BB unit in front of you, as it begins to roll into your room.

 _Hello,_ it beeps, looking up at you, _I am BB-4, your new astromerch droid. It is nice to meet you._

You glare at the droid, ignore it, and then begin walking down the hall, trying to remember your way to General Hux’s office.

At one point you have to stop and ask for directions, and by the way the technician you speak to jumps, you are guessing you voice doesn’t sound too happy.

It takes all your willpower to not just bust through the door, and you have to tell yourself to slow down and breathe. Maybe this is just a little mistake? I mean, it’s a big ship and there are lots of people. It isn’t unlikely for BB to have been mixed up with another one, you guess.

You knock on the door a little more aggressively than you meant to, but you got no answer. Knocking again, you make sure that you do a little softer, hoping you aren’t leaving a bad impression.

Still no answer.

“UGH! Where the fuck is he?” you say to yourself, hoping no one hears you. You can’t imagine anyone reacting well to hearing you speak of someone of his ranking like that.

You decided to go look around to see if you can find someone else important that may have answers for you.

Turning the corner to go back to your room, you suddenly hear loud yelling, and sickening sound of metal tearing, followed by a crash.

“What the hell…” you say to yourself, walking towards the sounds.

You come to a room and stop, peering into it. There is smoke and sparks everywhere, and in the middle of it stands a man, red lightsaber in hand. You tense up when you recognize him. He is same man who you met the first night on this ship. Kylo Ren.

You slowly walk through the doorway, stepping over some live wires and debris. Through the smoke, you can see him shaking with rage, ready to start swinging the weapon around again.

“Uh, a-are you alright?” your voice sounded small and full off fear. You think to yourself that you should just walk away, that this is not a good idea and you should just leave him alone to let all his anger out.

And you were right. He suddenly whips around, staring daggers at you through his mask, then outstretches his hand. Your body seizes up, and you suddenly cannot move. You begin to panic, thinking that this is it. This is how you die.

You are pulled close to him, his face merely inches from your own. His ragged, metallic breaths tell you he is still seething with rage, and that your presence possibly made it worse.

“Who. Are. You.” Kylo Ren’s words are harsh, and if words could kill, you would be dead where you stand. Going off the question, you can guess that he doesn’t remember you. But that makes sense, since he’s only seen you once, and at the time you were caked in blood and had a huge swollen lump on your head, probably obscuring what you actually looked like.

Suddenly, you cannot speak. Not because he is preventing you, but because you are absolutely terrified. Attempting to get something, anything out, you open your mouth.

“I-I don’t—I’m not—I-I—“ You stumble and trip over your words, as you try to keep yourself together. Why are you so afraid now? Where you this scared when you first met him? You can’t really remember.

Then you are flying, thrown like a ragdoll across the room, follow by a frustrated yell. It’s almost like everything is going in slow motion, as your body quickly meets with a broken computer monitor.

You hear a sickening crunch, and there is a warmth spreading across your body, starting at your shoulder. Your ears are ringing, and your vision is starting to become pretty fuzzy, but you can still see the way he tenses up when he looks at you.

You try to move your arm to push yourself up, but you can’t. You can’t move anything. For some reason, though, you aren’t afraid anymore. No, you feel almost… happy? Relaxed? You’re not sure. Everything is numb, including your mind.

You feel something coming up your throat and wretch, then look down at yourself. There is blood, and a lot of it.

“W… what…” you can see someone inches for your face, but you don’t recognize them. Their lips are moving but you can’t hear them. Where are you again?

On any other occasion, you’d find this person attractive, but you can’t quite concentrate on anything at the moment, besides the tingly feeling that is taking you over. Who is this person and why do they look so upset?

The unknown person stands up, backing away from you and pinches the bridge of their nose then paces around for a moment before grabbing something off of the floor, pulling it over their head, then running out of the room and leaving you there.

Your vision is fading and everything is beginning to look dark. You wonder if you are dying, but you don’t have the energy to be afraid. Instead, you decided to close your eyes for a minute. Just for a few seconds, just to rest your eyes. The last thing you see before the darkness consumes you, is two people rushing in to remove you from where you lay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol you just got #rekt


	5. Hey buddy can you lend me a hand

_You are in a field…_

_The sun is warm on your skin…_

_A robin lands next to you, chirping your name gleefully…_

_It wants you to follow…_

_You follow the bird to the edge of the woods…_

_It leads you deeper and deeper into the forest…_

_Everything is becoming dark and cold…_

_You can’t see the sun anymore…_

_The robin becomes a raven as it screeches your name…_

_You try to block it out…_

_It is so loud…_

_There are so many, surrounding you…_

_You can’t hear yourself think…_

_You can only muster a strangled cry that is cut short by blood pouring from your mouth…_

_They begin swarming you, pecking at your skin…_

_You can’t feel your arm…_

_You see it ripped from your body, torn apart by the ravens…_

_They peck and claw at your bloody body…_

_You hear a voice, a human voice, call your name somewhere…_

_You turn towards it and everything is gone…_

You awake with a jolt, and you can feel your own pulse pounding. You’re not sure where you are, but everything is a blinding white. Blinking a few times, you become somewhat aware of your surroundings. There’s a white curtain all around you and what looks to be like medical equipment. The only sound you can hear is the quiet beeping of a heart monitor that you are attached you. Next to that, you notice a long pole holding a bag of clear liquid, leading to your arm. You see writing on the bag, but you can’t focus enough to read it. On the other side of you, there is a second hanging bag. Immediately you know exactly what it is; blood.

You look up at the ceiling, trying to remember what happened, and how you got here. Suddenly, you realize that you can’t feel your left arm. It’s not like it has gone numb, it just feels like there is nothing there, not even the weight of it.

You turn your head quickly, stopping when you groan from the sharp pain in your neck that goes all the way to the front of your head. Then you see it; nothing. You see nothing where your left arm should be. At first you think your mind is playing tricks on you, but the longer you stare, the more the reality of it sets in.

It tapers off just barely below your shoulder, and ends in bloody white gauze. You are shocked, not knowing how to even react. You choke back a sob of disbelief, and look back up at the ceiling, trying to sort everything out in your head.

Your thoughts are cut short by the sound of the curtain opening and a woman with long brown hair walking in, dressed in blue scrubs with a medical mask covering her mouth.

“Hello! I am glad to see that you are finally awake! You’ve been out for quite some time and I am sure you have many questions.” She begins checking your vitals and gives you more blood and more of that clear liquid that you find out is morphine. She then jots some stuff down on a clipboard and takes a seat in the chair next to your bed.

You look around for a minute before speaking.

“H…how long have I been out?” your voice comes out pretty rough at first, but after a few coughs it sounds a little better.

She looks down at her clipboard, then back up to you. “About 4 years.”

“WHAT?” You yell in surprise, almost choking on your own spit.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding! You have been out for about 3 days.” She chuckles to herself and writes some more stuff down on her clipboard.

You let out a big sigh of a relief, and then remember your arm—or the lack of, you should say. “What happened to my arm? I can’t really remember anything…” You start to stare off into space— quite literally as there is a window next to you.

“Oh yes,” she places her clipboard down on the floor and crosses her legs before continuing, “You had an accident involving… someone... and your arm was impaled on a large piece of metal. It was enough to almost completely detach your limb, so we had no choice but to amputate it. In addition to that, you had hit your head extremely hard, fracturing your skull. We fixed that up, but you will be concussed for some time. The force of the blow caused some internal bleeding as well.”

You had a look of complete dismay on your face. This was almost unbelievable. You think hard, trying to remember something, anything, about what happened.

“Kylo Ren…” you say, hardly audible.

“I-I’m sorry, what was that?” the woman responds, acting as if you misspoke.

“It was Kylo Ren,” you say louder, so that she can hear you, “He’s the one that did this, I remember now.” 

“Oh, I was not aware that you knew of him.” She stares at you, waiting for you to speak again.

You bring your remaining hand up to your face and run it over a few healing cuts, thinking.

“Can I speak with General Hux, please?” You ask, carefully turning towards her as to not feel that sharp pain you felt the first time you turned your head.

She picks up the clipboard from the floor and looks at it for a moment, then back to you. “I suppose. I’ll call him in for you.” She gets up and walks out, leaving you to your thoughts.

You begin observing the bloody stump that use to be your arm. This isn’t so bad, right? At least you’re alive. You can always get a prosthetic or something. You’re sure everything will work out.

 

20 minutes pass as you mentally reassure yourself that everything is going to be okay. Finally, General Hux arrives, and opens the curtain slowly as to not scare you. He winces as soon as he sees you, and sits down next to your bed.

“How are you feeling?” He asks, obviously staring at your lack of an arm.

“I would say that I’ve felt worse, but to be honest with you this is probably the worst thing that has ever happen to me.”

He clears his throat, a sign that he is feeling a little awkward. “I apologize on behalf of Ren—I mean Kylo Ren—for what he did to you. He can sometimes let his emotions get the best of him, and he did not realize how important you are in the plan to infiltrate the Republic.”

“Oh so if I wasn’t important then this would have been fine?” You snap back, not even thinking before you spoke. “I-I’m sorry it’s just that… Couldn’t he come to apologize himself?”

General Hux ignores your first statement, and answers your question. “Well he can, but I assumed that you wouldn’t want to see him after this. Would you like me to fetch him for you? I don’t think he is free right now, but I can send him over for you later if you would like.”

You think about it for a moment the nod, stopping quickly when you feel the pain in your head.

“Alright then,” he claps his hands together and stands up, “I do hope you get better. Your jobs shall be postponed until you are fit to work again. For now, just rest up.” He turns and walks away, being replaced by the woman who came in earlier.

 

The next three days are spent doing various exercises to see how your head is doing. You are asked what your name is, how old you are, and to point out colors on a piece of paper daily. Along with these were other activities that changed from day to day. You also had to fill out papers about how you were feeling regarding light sensitivity and headaches, and how well you could hear, smell, taste and see.

In addition to testing your head, you were fitted for a prosthetic arm. Lucky for you, the First Order has access to the most highly advanced artificial limbs. Though you couldn’t feel anything with it, you could move it just as you would a normal arm. Of course you had to get the hang of it; the first day of having it, you had trouble doing simple tasks such as just tying your shoe or picking a straw off the ground. At the end of the second day with your new arm, four days since you had learned it was gone, you were able to hold a cup without crushing or dropping it!

That day you were transferred to a recovery unit. It was a room, rather than just a bed surrounded by a sheet, and you thought that it would make more sense for it to be the other way around; this being the intensive care section, and the other part being recovery. You weren’t going to question them though.

As the day slowed down, you sat in the hospital bed, practicing with your new arm by touching all of your fingers to the thumb, trying to get use to the movements. You also thought about BB. You hadn’t gotten a chance to talk to General Hux about it yet, but you were planning to soon. You were starting to get very worried and you just wanted to know where it was. You had a lot to tell it.

You heard a knock as the door, and without looking up from your actions with your arm, you told them to come in.

“What’s up?” You asked as you heard someone open the door and walk in, still not looking up from what you were doing. You assumed it was just your doctor, Dr. Tara, the woman who had met with you the first day of you being awake. She was a very kind and beautiful woman, and loved jokes. The two of you got along very well.

“Hello.”

The metallic voice caught you off guard, and made you freeze in your actions.

“Oh, hello,” you said, still not looking up, “are you here to throw me into another wall?”

Your words sounded very cold, and you were glad. This guy nearly killed you during one of his temper tantrums, which come to find out, are common. You think that you have the right to sound a little mean.

He walks towards you and you look up at him, for some reason no longer feeling intimidated by his demeanor. You can’t quite pinpoint why. A normal person would feel a thousand times more afraid of him, but you don’t.

“I am here to apologize to you. Sorry.” He stares at you for, waiting for a response.

You scan him and think for a moment.

“Hmmm… Say it without the helmet. It feels pretty impersonal when you are wearing that thing.”

He stands for a second, just flexing his fingers presumably out of annoyance, before slowly reaching it up to remove it.

You were not prepared for what you saw next. Instead of some ugly, deformed old guy like you were expecting, you were pleased to see someone that was fairly young, with gorgeous black hair that framed his face nicely. He has pale skin that was spotted with a few birthmarks, and his eyes are a dark brown and oh jeez you are certain that you are blushing.

“I… am sorry for what I did.” He looks away from you and at the ground, and you can tell by his no longer metallic voice that he means it.

You stare a little longer and take him in. _Boy, is he attractive._

His mouth turns up for a moment. Was that a smile? You ignore it and play it off as a nervous twitch. Kylo Ren doesn’t seem like the smiley type.

Humming for a moment, you decided that you will forgive him.

“It’s alright I guess. It doesn’t really make up for my lack of an arm but I can’t hate you over it forever. Especially if we will be working together.”

He looks up at your prosthetic and his eyes widen, apparently just now noticing the metal arm that hung by your side.

“They removed it? I thought that they would be able to save it.” Kylo Ren takes a step forward, reaching his hand out towards it, but you jerk backwards involuntarily from him.

“Oh, uh, sorry.” He pulls his hand back swiftly and coughs, then stands up a little straighter.

That sudden movement you made caused the empty cup that was sitting at the end of your bed to fall off onto the floor and you reach down with your metal arm to pick it up, failing the first four attempts. You looked quite pathetic and you could see Kylo looking at you from the corner of your eye.

He reached down to help you pick it up, but you stopped him.

“I can get it myself. I’m not helpless.” Your words sounded a lot harsher than you had intended, probably because of your growing frustration with yourself. Why couldn’t you just pick up the damn cup?!

After the sixth time trying and failing get the cup, you hear a frustrated yell and you flinch, almost losing your balance.

You looked up just in time to see Kylo Ren put his helmet back on and storm out of the room.

“Hey! Why are _you_ the one getting angry?!” You yell at him, but you don’t think he heard you.

You flop back onto your pillow and close your eyes. All that plays in your head is his face. How his lips move when he talks and how soft his hair looks… No. Stop. Don’t think about that. He nearly killed you! You shouldn’t be attracted to him. You should loath him for what he did. You open your eyes and compare your real hand to your fake, trying to take your mind off him. But oh god what you would give to just see him again, just talk to him again outside of an awkward apology.

You lean down a successfully pick up the cup. Figures.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :^) things starting to get gay

**Author's Note:**

> Yonk get ready for chapter 2 B) Also yall should leave feedback <3


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